


A Crime of Fashion

by SorchaCahill



Series: The Adventures of Young Trevelyan [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: plaidweave as punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 10:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4603326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SorchaCahill/pseuds/SorchaCahill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian's armor is destroyed after a battle with poisonous gurguts and he's none too happy about the replacement. The others in the party are highly amused however.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Crime of Fashion

“What in Andraste’s name is that?”

“It’s called armor, Dorian. You know, that thing that helps keep pointy things out of your innards.”

“Don’t be dense, my dear. What is that horrible material?”

Bríghid looked down at it and shrugged. It was an unfortunate color but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“I’m not wearing that, that, whatever that is.”

“Now who’s being dense, Dorian? It’s at least two days to the next town and your previous armor is no longer useable thanks to that gurgut’s poison burning through it, so unless you want to go traipsing through the Exalted Plains in nothing but your smalls-.”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing that.”

“You are not helping Bull,” Bríghid said, shooting a glance over her shoulder before turning back to the mage. “Dorian, be reasonable. Just put it on. It’s just the four of us. Anyone we come across will probably be demons or bandits and I’m sure we can deal with them in short order before they send off a raven describing your attire.”

Dorian sneered at the armor. It was sturdy enough, well made, but whoever made it had to have been colorblind or mad. “But my dear Inquisitor, think of my reputation.”

“Stop being such a baby Dorian and put the blighted armor on. It’s not like I’m forcing you to shave off your mustache. None of us of will tell a soul that you had to suffer such an indignity as to wear... plaidweave, that’s what it’s called.”

“It’s nice stuff too, innit? You can find tons of it just lying around for the taking.”

“That’s because no one with good tastes wears it, Sera,” Dorian scowled, finally taking the armor from Bríghid’s hands.

“Oh piss. Just put it on like the Inquisitor said. I’m thirsty and all this waiting around makes me want to shoot arrows into something.”

“Yes, alcohol. That sounds like an excellent idea. There had better be plenty of it when we get to the next village. It’s going to take a lot to block this out of my memory.”

Bríghid rolled her eyes and shoved him away. “Just get dressed. You being nearly naked for this long is draining all the blood from Bull’s brain and that makes him useless to me.”

“It’s true, I am a magnificent specimen. Oh don’t get your smalls in a twist,” he said quickly when she narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m getting dressed.”

It was worse than he feared. It was one thing to loot a corpse for it’s armor, a disgusting thing in of itself but this was beyond the pale. He could only be grateful that there wasn’t a mirror around. He dreaded to know how the hideous armor looked on him.

“Are you done preening or do you need a few more minutes?”

“You’re awfully sassy as of late, Inquisitor. Couldn’t be because of a certain commander, could it?” As he said it, something clicked in his brain. “This is revenge isn’t it. Revenge for the bet Varric and I had regarding your relationship.”

Bríghid’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Now Dorian, would I ever do such a thing?”

“In a heartbeat, my dear. In a heartbeat.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in the same universe as the other Adventures of Young Trevelyan stories but occurs after Bríghid becomes the Inquisitor.


End file.
